


Untouchable

by Glitchy_Ink



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood, Canon Compliant, Character Death, Character Study, Child Death, Death, Dream SMP Spoilers, Dream Smp, Gen, Grief/Mourning, I am very sad and this is how I am coping, No Beta We Die Like Wilbur in Skyblockle, Not RPF, One Shot, POV Third Person, POV TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Short One Shot, TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur and Tommy aren't brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29795616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glitchy_Ink/pseuds/Glitchy_Ink
Summary: The thing about death was that no matter how aware of your mortality you are, it always seemed so far away. It was a thing that wouldn’t happen to you, it’s a thing that happens to people far from you. Separate from you. You and your loved ones, you’re untouchable.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	Untouchable

The thing about death was that no matter how aware of your mortality you are, it always seemed so far away. It was a thing that wouldn’t happen to you, it’s a thing that happens to people far from you. Separate from you. You and your loved ones, you’re untouchable.

At least, that was what Tommy thought before he actually witnessed death. He had thought he’d seen death before, hell, he'd thought that he EXPERIENCED it. ‘It’s inescapable on this damn server’ he’d often think to himself. That wasn’t true death though. As painful as it was, as dark and empty the moments between life and death were, he’d always come back. Everyone would come back. A little worse for wear mind you, with new scars and new fears. They’d always be back though.

That is, until Wilbur didn’t come back.

That was when it sunk in. Death was real, and it could happen to anyone. It hadn’t sunk in with Schlatt, as far under as he may be. He was a shell of his former self, a broken man standing in the shadows of the man he and Wilbur had asked to endorse their campaign. Far away.

Wilbur wasn’t far away though. In fact, he had been the opposite of far. 

If you had asked Tommy what his relationship to Wilbur was, he would have hesitated. Mentor felt too formal, superior felt too cold. Brother? That’s what they appeared to be to many other people, he could recall people they didn’t know referring to them that way.  
“Does your younger brother want anything too?” a shopkeeper once asked when Wilbur took Tommy to buy supplies with him once. Wilbur has denied it, and at the time Tommy had felt a bit hurt, but it was true. They weren’t brothers. Wilbur had a father who cared about him, Tommy had…….. It hadn’t mattered what Tommy had, because he had Wilbur and that was enough.

Now, all Tommy has is a ghost.

He supposes it’s technically Wilbur, he’s wearing his old yellow sweater and his crooked glasses. He can play guitar like Wilbur can, and he still likes books. He was different though. Wrong.

It felt like when you lose your favorite toy and you buy the same thing to replace it. The same, and yet different in every way. This Wilbur had translucent grey skin and completely vacant eyes. None of the fiery passion was left. If you had asked this Wilbur to lead a country, he’d probably start crying. He was nice though, comforting. He had stayed by Tommy no matter what, even in the worst of times. (Tommy had even tried to hug him when he felt especially bad, he had just passed through him and his entire body felt clammy.) It wasn’t the same though. Things could never go back to how they were.

That is, until they felt like they could. 

“Did you miss me?” Those words had caused his body to tense up. 

‘It couldn’t be……’

It was. Standing before him was Wilbur, the real Wilbur. He was still translucent, and when he talked it felt like he was several rooms away, but it was him. He had the raggedy brown coat, the signature smirk, and the…….

Tommy couldn’t bear to look at his bloodstained stomach.

It was him though! Same old Wilbur, the one who had protected him, cared for him, (berated him and blew up the country they had fought to protect.)

He had said he was proud, no, he WAS proud. That Tommy had done a good job escaping death, that he had won with the world stacked up against him.

That he would see him soon.

Tommy chuckled to himself a bit, coughing up some blood. He could feel the slick obsidian rock, cold against his body as he lay on the ground. 

“What’s so funny?” a gruff voice said, audibly sneering. Dream.

Tommy coughed again, his vision swimming.

“He…..” Tommy said weakly, “he was right. I will be seeing him soon.” He could hear Dream talking, but everything was so far away, so incredibly far away. It was like falling, but never landing, never hitting the ground. This was his final thought before his vision faded out completely.

The thing about death was that you were untouchable. That is, until you weren’t.

**Author's Note:**

> Soooooooooo.......... that Tommy stream am I right?  
> I've been meaning to write some dsmp fic for ages, and I have a lot of feelings abou C!Wilbur and C!Tommy's relationship, so here's that. I haven't written anything in a while, I hope it turned out good and people like it!


End file.
